


SADDLE UP! It's Peapod McHanzo Week 2019!

by AughtPunk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-10-03 08:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17280863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: Let's ride these little doggies! And by ride I mean read, and by doggies I mean fanfics.Oh My God They Were Roommates! - Jesse owns a cozy cabin that he rents out while he's busy being a hero.AU - Hanzo Shimada! Marshal on Mars!Secret AdmirerGame NightRole ReversalMeet the FamilyEngagement/Marriage





	1. Oh My God They Were Roommates!

Jesse McCree owned a house. This surprised people.

Honestly, it surprised him too. Homeowner was not on the list of things he thought would happen in his life. He also didn’t think he would live past twenty-one but that was a whole other thing. Jesse bought a little cabin right before the fall of Overwatch the second he read the writing on the wall. At the time he just wanted someplace where he could hide out for as long as possible until the world settled down. Which the remote cabin did wonderfully.

Nowadays he used it as more of a hide-out. Someplace to stay when he needed to lay low for a few days. Or weeks. Possibly months. And when things were going well for Jesse he rented the place out. Most of the time it was couples, sometimes groups of students, and very rarely individuals. He had one regular that was a math professor who periodically rented the place for a few days or weeks at a time.

Luckily for him, Mr Needs a Vacation from Mathematics wasn’t staying that week. Good thing, because Jesse had no idea how to explain the blood. One of these days Jesse would learn not to go on dangerous missions by himself. At the time he figured, hey, it was near his cabin, he’s got plenty of bio-emitors stocked there if something goes wrong, he’ll be fine!

“Damn, damn idiot…”

Jesse chanted the words every step of his slow, agonizing hike up to his cabin. His left hand was clutched against his right side, as if he could somehow keep his blood from leaking out between his fingers. Every step sent a bolt of pain through his body. The silver lining was he didn’t have to worry about anyone tracking the blood trail highlighted against the snow just because there wasn’t anyone left alive.

“Put a stash of the bio-stuff at the bottom of the damn hill, damn idiot…”

He was in the middle of debating the merits of laying down in the snow and never moving again when the cabin peered out from behind the pine trees. Determined to at least die inside, Jesse struggled those last few yards up the stairs and through the front door. Warmth, blessed warmth hit him square in the chest the second he dragged himself into the living room. The sight of a roaring fireplace almost moved him to tears. 

He only made it a few more steps for crashing down on the couch, but it was okay. Jesse reached under the couch and pulled out one of the many emergency bio-emitors he had hidden around the cabin. He slammed it against the floor as hard as he could and a second later that sweet golden light flooded out from inside. The pain vanished, eaten away by nanobots or magic or whatever the hell Mercy put in those things. Sleep beckoned him, yet there was something bothering Jesse. It didn’t hit him until he opened his eyes.

The fireplace was going.  
The front door was unlocked.

And even with the emitter buzzing in his ears he could still hear the tell-tale sound of controlled breathing from the hall doorway.

“Damn, damn idiot.”

Jesse’s mind race to think of a plausible explanation to his current renter over why he was bleeding out over the couch as he forced himself to sit up. Whatever lies made it to the tip of his tongue vanished when said renter silently stepped into the living room. Before Jesse was the very image of a man who had to rush out of the shower. His hair was wet, there were still suds on his shoulder, and he wore sweatpants that barely held on to the man’s hips for dear life. Jesse may have thought more about said pants if it wasn’t for the bow notched with an arrow pointed straight at him.

“Five.” The man said.

Ah. This was going to require the classic cowboy charm. “Howdy sweetheart I was just-”

“Four.”

The cowboy charm was not working. “Now now, let’s not-”

“Three.” The man said, gritting his teeth. 

A drop of water ran down between the man’s pecs in a way that should be illegal. “I’m sure we can talk this—”

“Two.”

Jesse’s hand was already on Peacekeeper, but he didn't draw it. There was something nagging him in the back of his mind about this man. Something familiar. 

“On—”

“Aren’t you that math professor?”

Those were the magic words that made the man lower the bow. Confusion spread across his face as he looked at Jesse, like really looked. “And you are the journalist that owns this cabin.”

“Joel Morricone at your service,” Jesse said, not even bothering to switch to his boring-journalist voice. “So. Do math teachers normally have yakuza tattoos?”

“Do journalists dress up as cowboys and then bleed over the davenport?”

“Ain’t that one of those Hobbits?”

That broke whatever tension remained in the air between them. The math professor, whose name Jesse couldn’t remember and was probably fake anyway, dropped his bow and arrow on the overstuffed chair by the fire. “Let me get straight to the point. I am lying. You are lying. You are also bleeding to death. I will treat your injury, and then we can talk.”

“Nah, I’m fine. I got one of these golden doodads.” Jesse pointed at the emitter on the floor.

“Doodads.”

“The thingermagiers. With the glowy stuff.”

The math professor took a deep breath before saying, “I will go fetch my first aid kit. Do not bleed out before then.”

“Okie dokie sugarpie.” Jesse flashed what he hoped was a charming smile before falling back onto the couch. Maybe the math professor was right about the blood thing.

***

The math teacher’s name was Hanzo. That wasn’t the name he gave when renting the cabin, so Jesse assumed that it was his real one. Beyond that Jesse couldn’t get anything else from the man. Not who he really was, why he was hiding out at the cabin, or if he was single or not. Jesse found that last one very pressing. Luckily Jesse was nothing if not direct.

“So, did you come here with someone else or all by your lonesome self?”

“By myself.” Hanzo said as stood at the kitchen sink, washing Jesse’s blood off his hands. “Were you followed?”

Jesse leaned against the kitchen counter, careful not to smack his wrapped side into anything.“Can’t be followed by the dead, sweetheart.”

Hanzo didn’t respond right away. Instead his focused seemed to be fully on drying his hands. Jesse had to admit he did a damn find job cleaning up the wound. Clearly someone who was used to patching people or. Or patching himself up. There was something else about the man, right on the edge of Jesse’s memories, when Hanzo spoke up again. “You can have the master bedroom.”

“Sugar, you’re the one who paid for the room wait, hang on, what?”

Hanzo tossed the damp towel vaguely in the direction of the counter. It snagged on a moose shaped cookie jar but close enough. “You are far too weak to travel on your own, and I do not feel like carrying you to the next town over.”

“So you want me to stay here? And you’re fine with that? You don’t anything about me. Hell, I could be a hitman sent by a pissed off student of your’s!”

That got Hanzo to smile. Jesse rather liked that smile. He could get used to it. “Then I shall keep an eye on you to ensure you do not try to smother me in your sleep with your cowboy hat.”

“Haha. Fine. How am I supposed to trust that you won’t try anything?”

“Because it would be very rude of me to kill my landlord. You have always given me a good price to rent this place.”

Jesse grinned. “Glad to hear, glad to hear. But I have to ask you one more thing. Do you make a decent cup of coffee?”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. It would have been more threatening if not for that smile. “My coffee is nothing short of perfection.”

“Then apple dumplin’, I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”


	2. AU - Hanzo Shimada, Marshal on Mars!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Readers! Shine yer astro-spurs and don yer robot fist. It’s time for our thrillin’ adventure… Hanzo Shimada, Marshall on Mars!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YtqFPeVeLs)

Red dust kicked up behind the 5:15 from Opportunity, hiding the natural beauty of Mars wherever the rails took the powerful machine. Trains, as old fashioned as it was, were the main means of transportation between domes. Food, supplies, people, the only reason you wouldn’t use a train to get from Dome A to Dome B is if you were an idiot or an even dumber idiot with a death wish. Or in Hanzo’s experience, bandits. He ducked behind a convenient rust-red boulder to where his rocket steeds and his deputy were waiting. 

Partner, Hanzo corrected himself as the bug-like blue Martian adjusted the red serape around his shoulders, Jesse was his partner. But only in the cowboy sense. 

“I’m pickin’ up a good dozen rocket steeds comin’ in from the south.” Jesse said, the blue antenna poking out of his hat (through the holes Hanzo helped cut for him) twitching like mad. “Deadlock if the vibration’s anything to go by. Bob never did keep his steeds up-to-date.” 

“That is all?” Hanzo said as he waited for the shoe to drop.

“Well, Ashe isn’t wearing her normal perfume which means she knows she’s going to get dirty, and that sniper they picked up really needs to take some time bang out some of those dents, and I’m not going to get into that vest the medic is wearing. Damn things insults at least six out of my twenty-eight senses.”

And there it was. If it weren’t for the many biological studies he researched on Martian life Hanzo would have been certain that Jesse was pulling his leg about the twenty-eight senses thing. “I thought Deadlock didn’t do train robberies.” 

“They don’t. Add in fact that Ashe is taggin’ along really sends the Nah Nohtek really crawlin’ up my chitin. There’s something on that train they want real bad, darlin’. You sure that’s just a food supply train?”

“According to the paperwork I had to notarize, yes. In reality, I do not know. Of course, the paperwork might have been forged.” Which was why Hanzo decided he and Jesse had to keep an eye out for bandits themselves. Hanzo knew every single piece of paperwork that crossed his desk by heart. The fact that the paperwork the train company sent was in twelve-point arial instead of eleven-point times new roman set alarms off in his head. “Anyone with five senses could have seen that.”

Jesse waved his mechanical bug-arm at Hanzo. “Yeah yeah yeah, I heard it the first fifty times you rubbed it in. So what’s the plan, partner?” 

He did it again. Jesse swore he didn’t, but every now and then he said the word partner with a purr right on its heels. Made it sound like Jesse wasn’t talking about the cowboy type of partner. Hanzo ignored the way his ears burned and instead poked his head back out from behind the rock. The train was slipping away in a haze of dust. “There’s no way we can get to the train before they can. What direction did you say they were arriving from?”

“South, bout a half a click and getting closer. Why? You got a plan?”

Hanzo turned around to face Jesse and he lifted his laser bow up to the sky. He didn’t bother to fight back his smirk as he fired a bolt of light into the air that arched over the boulders and out of sight. Jesse waited until he laser arrow vanished to speak.

“Sweetheart, I know you say you’re the best shot on G'loot Praktaw.”

“I am the best shot on Mars.”

“But I think--”

What followed was a calliope of sounds that could only be described as twelve bandits on rocket steeds violently crashing into each other because an arrow hit the one in front. Jesse’s antenna twitched, but he didn’t look away from Hanzo as warmth entered his bug-like eyes. 

“Only need half of my sensors to guess the train’s going to be nice and safe. You know angel, this is why the tribe’s trying to marry me off to you.”

Hanzo lowered his laser bow. “I thought it was because they wished to kick ‘Jesse McCree The Cowboy, you know that weirdo with emotions’ out of their tribe the easiest way possible?”

Jesse gasped and placed his hand on where his heart probably was. “Buttercup! You wound me! The elders saw you were blessed by Nah Nohtek and knew you were the one! The fact that they were lookin’ to chase me out had nothin’ to do with it. Anyway, you know I fell for you the second I saw those dragons. Blessed indeed.”

It occured to Hanzo, as he was saddling up his rocket steed, that he forgot to correct Jesse about being just partners again. He had known about the Martian’s crush from the start and was doing everything he could to not break the multiple laws by the Mars-Earth Coalition that forbade inter-office romance. The thought had crossed his mind that he could find a way to simply call the marriage off, but every time he did he thought of the sparkle in Jesse’s eyes or the way the sun reflected off his blue skin. 

Maybe there was a loophole in one of the Mars-Earth Coalition’s sub articles about Martian religion. A footnote about inter-species clauses, maybe something that involves the time he and Jesse switched bodies for a few days, something, anything. Although if pressed Hanzo wouldn’t be able to admit if he was looking for something to break the union anymore, or to keep it.

“You know what this means?” Jesse asked, already up on his rocket steed while Hanzo scrambled onto his.

“No.” Hanzo lied.

“Since you saved me from getting into a fight with my old gang--”

“Jesse--”

“I got no choice but increase that dang onus of mine! Not as much back when you saved Fareeha for me--”

“And I told you Fareeha the Red Plains Rider saved me, Jesse--”

“But enough to keep me by your side for a few years longer, I reckon. Hope you don’t mind too much.”

“I suppose you are a better deputy than Cactoid Baptiste.” Hanzo sighed.

Jesse laughed, “Now we both know that ain’t true. That being said, he is lackin’ that certain something. I look at him and all I see is a beautiful charming man with a fantastic smile pleasing to most of my senses. But you? I look at you and you got this spark within’ ya. I look at you and I think yep, that right there is a genuine cowboy, born with red dust in his veins and the blessings of the two moons above. You were made to be the Marshal of G'loot Praktaw.” 

“That may be so,” Hanzo, now up on his rocket steed like a true Mars Marshal, felt his heart flutter at Jesse’s words. Partner, he told himself, in the cowboy sense. Maybe later in the other sense. “But you must not forget that I...am from Earth.”

“Never will sugar, never will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to celebrate my return to writing with an AU based on a podcast you can't even get anymore! They put the damn thing behind a paywall!


End file.
